Page 97 of On His Team

Me: That’s usually the important part.

Gianna: I hate sports.

Me: Yeah.

Gianna: You played good.

I look at it.

Me: Well.

Gianna: Do not correct me tonight.

Me: Okay.

She sends a middle finger.

I laugh.

Blue looks over from across the aisle. “What?”

“Nothing.”

His eyes go to my phone. Then back to me. I put it face down on my leg. He doesn’t say anything.

Saturday is uglier. Ohio State gets one early. We answer in the second. Reichel gets another. They tie it, and nobody scores again.

Percy stops forty-one.

The shootout doesn’t go our way.

Officially, it’s a tie.

It feels like a loss for about ten minutes, until Fuller reminds us we took a point on the road after losing the first night and Percy basically carried the building on his back.

We leave Ohio with a loss and a tie. It’s not what we needed, but it isn’t fatal.

On the plane home, I sleep. When I wake up, Benson is across the aisle reading something on his phone. Stanley is unconscious with his mouth open. Blue has headphones on.

My phone has one message.

Gianna: Proud of you guys.

I read it once.

Then again.

I don’t know why that one lands differently.

Maybe because she doesn’t say sorry. Maybe because she doesn’t try to tell me it was secretly a win. She watched. She knows. And she’s proud anyway.

Me: You at Hawthorne later?

The answer comes while we’re taxiing.

Gianna: Probably.

I put the phone away.